Afterthought
by TermiteSquidSnowLeopard
Summary: When Erik, the Phantom, encounters the impoverished Eponine and learns of her unrequited love for Marius, he resolves to bring the two together, watching over and guiding Eponine. But as he intervenes, what emotions will he feel? What fate is left? R
1. Phantom Transported

**This fic is co-written by Izzi (penname=Erik Spice) and me. Basically, I write for Erik and she writes for nearly everyone else (especially Eponine). The basic premise is that Erik is timewarped back into the Les Misérables time. **

A shimmer descended over the nighttime streets of Paris. It was too dim to clearly see, rippling between the houses and around the opera.

Into this faint unseen glow walked the shadowed figure of a man, whose golden eyes seemed to reflect the glow and make it amplified.

The shimmer collapsed, and the world whirled.

Erik fell through the tapestry of existence, landing again in the nighttime streets of Paris, changed into those of an earlier time. He looked around, taking in the changes. _With all the sadness, perhaps I have become mad._ Well, he was not to think of that now. Nothing looked right... _but ignore that_. His intended last words to give to the Persian still fresh in his mind, he set through the streets, trying to find his way in a city transformed. But as the night wore on, he realized that he had become lost, the landmarks no longer familiar.

He passed a few small houses and endearments in shadow; it seemed as if night had just fallen. Without knowing it, Erik passed a small garden in which an elderly man was reading. As the sun was rising, he grew nervous... if he should be seen, well, in the open... he could not let himself be exposed! He looked around, frantically, not seeing any good hiding place nearby.

"Père Mabeuf," said a man's voice from the garden a few steps away; "would you like me to water your garden?"

Erik darted behind a fencepost, looking out to see who had spoken; not a man at all, actually.

A frail girl stepped out, into the garden, before the elderly man. She was very young, perhaps around the age of sixteen, and wearing almost nothing, her arms hidden by a shawl in the twilight. Her appearance was disturbing, though her face not unpleasant—had she not been battered by the elements, she may very well have been pretty. Now, though, her face was shallow, her eyes bleak, and some of her teeth missing. It must have been her, Erik realized, who had been speaking to the old man.

The elderly man, Mabeuf, as she had called him, seemed alarmed by her sudden and almost ghostly appearance. Before he could say anything, the girl had filled the watering can and was going from plant to plant, soaking each, the water spilling onto her bare feet.

Erik backed into the shadows, his eyes coming aglow again as he receded into the darkness. _Poor girl. Poor ailing girl_. His eyes turned back to his surroundings, and he edged into an alleyway. _And poor lost Erik._ Where would he go? It would be a long way to the opera house, if he could even find it anymore.

He faintly heard the old man say, "You must be an angel, for you so care for flowers."

"I am no angel," said the other. "I'm a demon, but it's all the same...to me."  
The next part of the conversation was quiet, and Erik couldn't hear it, although more than once the girl asked after a Monsieur Marius. The old man gave a long, quiet explanation and suddenly the girl ran from the garden, her eyes a bit brighter. She didn't notice Erik, even though she sped past him.

Once she had left, Erik continued on his way. If he could not find the way to the opera house soon, at least he should find some place of refuge. After wandering for a time, he came to an old market-garden farmhouse, in which he decided to await the night.

_If the world changes around me_, he thought, _it must be that I am changing within it. When I realize that there is no one in the world to love me for myself, and that it only remains that I should die, surely then comes the time that I can no longer see the world as it is. Nothing will stay constant! Christine must be torn from me, and I must let it pass. Everything else must change. It is as if I am in my own chamber of mirrors, to see a new world, one without the hope of Christine loving me, without even the same Paris. And there is no escape but to die._

His mind wandered further and further into darkness. _It is my own torture... if no one can care for me, there must be no one. Erik must be shut away. Everything will be shut away. All my desires went to Christine, and now they are passed away._ His thoughts deepened, lonely, bereft, and muted into a calm feeling of emptiness, until there was nothing left.

**Reviews are highly craved! By both of us, really. So, as soon as you reach the bottom of the story, go hit the review thingy and post something, be it as detailed or as sparse as your own emotions.**

**Also, I would like to put in a mention of the excellently epic phic "Don Juan's Reckless Daughter," which is co-written by Izzi and Liz; again, you will find it under Izzi's penname, Erik Spice. Great characters, interesting plot; indeed, I recommend it so highly that I shall be a co-writer of the sequel. **

**While I'm advertising fics, I'll put in a mention of my drama/humor fic based off of the opera La Traviata. You need not be familiar with the opera to read it, really.**

**Erik smily! 8}**


	2. Eponine's Angel

**Sorry for the delay in updating… I've been kind of busy :( anyway, many many thanks to the nice person who gave a review! The credit for the Les Miserables part really does solely belong to Izzi, so do bear that in mind… and check out her fics, too; her pen name is Erik Spice. And while you're at it, check out my other fic; it's lonely. Anyway, it has come to my attention that some people may be reading this without reviewing. Well, I hope you can live with the knowledge that you are causing some unhappiness to me. Anyway, onto the action:**

"There he is!"

Erik heard a cry and started. It was morning; nearly midday. How he'd managed to either sleep or slip into a coma for that long was a bizarre prospect. He did not hear what little conversation ensued after that first cry, but the voice sounded very familiar. He went over to the door and peered out.

A handsome, dark-haired man was sitting against a tree, looking up, surprised, at a young girl who was standing over him. She smiled down at him affectionately with a smile missing a few teeth. "I've been looking for you," she said to the man, excited. "Didja know I've been in the jug? They let me go early, though, 'cos I'm two months underage. But if you knew how'd I'd been looking after you! A whole six weeks...you—you aren't living in the tenement anymore?" She spoke quickly, and she sounded both hurt and surprised that he wasn't living in this tenement she spoke of.

Erik leaned closer. He remembered her now... the impoverished-looking girl he'd seen at that garden. And now it sounded like she was sad about something, perhaps because of what she spoke about. He resolved to listen further.

"But, of course, you'd want to leave that place. After what happened, I mean. Awful stuff," she said, nodding. She looked at him for a moment. "You've a ratty shirt on today." The man had said nothing the entire time. "Why aren't you happy to see me, Monsieur Marius?" So this was the Marius he'd heard about. She sounded sad...but again, the man said nothing. "I could try to make you happy."

"What do you mean?" he asked somberly.

"Well, last time—"

"What do you mean, though?" he asked.

She stopped a moment, realizing he meant the comment about her making him happy. "It can't be helped, can it! It's alright, I'm not angry..." He was silent, so she answered, "You promised me something. And you must smile, you must!"

"Yes, yes, what is it!" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"I've got the address," she said calmly, wincing a bit when he turned pale.

Erik opened the door to the shed slowly, careful not to make a noise, and crept over to hide behind a dress on a clothesline.

"You mean...?" the man, Marius, asked slowly.

The girl sighed softly. "Yes...the address you told me to find. The young lady..." She sighed again, sadly.

Erik stayed where he was, but he wished he could get closer without danger of exposure. _Young lady? And she's sad about it... and _**he's**_ not nice to her... she must be like me, and she loves him but he must love the other one instead! But she shouldn't have to be as sad... she must not have my sad fate... that's it, I know, I must have come here for a reason. I must watch over her, like an Angel of Music, but instead be an Angel of Happiness, to rescue her from my plight, and give her into the arms of the man she loves._

He jumped up and took her hand. "You must take me to her! I'll give you anything you ask!"

"She's right on the other side of town, so I'll take you, but I only know the look of the house..." Next she said, in a sad tone which Erik had only heard in his own voice, "Oh...how excited you are!" Marius did not notice.

But, then his tone was serious. "You must promise—promise not to let your father know. You must promise this, Eponine."

She sounded surprised that he had called her by her name. "You...you know my..." Bewildered, actually.

"Promise!"

"I'm glad...I'm happy that you've called me Eponine," she said softly. "Real happy."

"Promise!" he cried, taking both her hands.

"Oh, my father! You needn't worry, he doesn't notice much," she assured him. "But I'll promise, if you really want me to. Heh, me—promise!"

"Good. Now, take me to her." He sounded urgent.

"Right now?"

"Yes! Yes!" he cried in excitement.

"Heavens...how excited you are...come along, then."

Erik inched after them. _Where will they go? Is it somewhere Erik can follow?_ He hoped so, ever so much, for in this new Paris, what else was there for him to live for?

"But you should stay a ways behind me," the girl, Eponine, said to Marius. "It would confuse people to see _you_ with a woman like me." Not that she was a woman at all.

Erik shivered. _Why should she say such a thing?_

"Wait, Monsieur," she said happily. "You promised me something."

Without saying a word, Marius took out a five franc piece, handing it to her.

She looked at it for a moment and over-turned her hand, letting the coin fall at Marius's feet. "I don't want the money, Monsieur," she said sadly, turning away and scurrying off, Marius following a few steps behind.

Erik followed, darting behind a lamppost. His face twisted into an expression of grief. _How woeful is she! But Erik will make her happy._

Eponine led them both to the other side of town quickly, darting from doorway to doorway. The street they ended up at was deserted, a few large houses on the side. One of them had a wrought iron gate, two stories, and a garden, with a shed in the back. She led them to this one. "The gate is loose over there," she said, pointing. "You should be able to get in."

Erik watched from a distance, trying to figure out if he could get through there without them noticing him. It seemed unlikely...

Marius tested the bar and it moved, allowing just enough space for someone to squeeze in. He turned to thank Eponine, but the street was already empty.

Eponine had retreated via a side-street, bypassing low houses. The street lamps hung low with a red tint; an eerie shade of red. She leaned against a wall. "Stupid boy. Stupid...loving boy," she said, scolding herself over her pathetic words.

Erik slipped into the shadows of the side-street, standing by Eponine's side, but shaded so she could not see.

"Why are you sad?" he whispered, making a soft song of the whisper, like a beautiful murmur from without.

Eponine jumped and turned toward the voice, seeing nothing but shadow. She watched them carefully, clutching her chest. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

Erik did not come out, but sang, so as to fill the air with music all around.

_The Angel of Music is here_

_Singing to clear away tears_

_The Angel watches over you_

_What is the cause of falling tears?_

_The Angel is here to help you_

Eponine backed into the farthest wall. "Montparnasse?" she asked angrily. "Montparnasse, stop doing that this instant..." _How did he get to be so good?_ she wondered. _He sings just like someone in the play._

The music seemed to waft about her, lightening, swinging up into a high sweet pitch, down into the profoundest depths.

_The Angel is no man you know_

_Let him into your mind and heart_

_He helps gain you your desire_

_He shall guide your heart to your love_

_And see your tears be washed away_

Eponine tensed again. "Show yourself!" she cried again, at the shadows. "Stop and _show_ yourself!"

The seeming source of the music bounced between the walls, back and forth, from above, then at one end, then another, and then from everywhere.

_The Angel must never be shown_

_But let him aid you from the air_

_Let him be guardian for you, then_

_He will stay and wait here each day_

_He shall be ready once you are_

Eponine inched away from the shadows, looking down the alley. "I'm going mad," she told herself, running out, glancing back a few times.

As she left, the music followed her behind, eerily calling to her.

_The Angel of Music will wait_

_Until you return to his sight_


	3. Blackness of Mind

**Wow, two reviews for one chapter. Excuse me while I glow in joy. You reviewers are the best, and thank you very, very much! I'll probably be updating this and my La Traviata fic (*hint hint*) once or twice per weekend, since that's when I have actual time. I hope you enjoy!**

Eponine shivered, not quite knowing why. What was happening? She was about to round a corner when she heard someone calling her, and saw someone scurrying toward her.

"Ponine! Ponine!"

"Zelma?" Eponine asked, watching her sister, Azelma, stop by her.

"Where are you off to?" Azelma asked.

"Leave me alone, Zelma," Eponine grumbled, not in the mood to speak to her sister. She left before Azelma could stop her, running toward the closest route to the Seine.

Erik snuck behind her, silent. _She doubts, for the moment. But in time, she will see how faithful Erik can be!_

She jumped in and out of a ditch that was in her way, walking a little slower, looking around. What had she heard? What had that been?!

Erik knelt in the ditch, watching her as she went. He would find something to eat, and then return to hide in the lane, until her return.

Eponine looked around, shaking. It was getting cold, but she didn't have a place to go. Her father was still in jail, and she'd been separated from her sister until just a minute. But Zelma would find her way around well enough. Her stomach growled in protest to the temperature and her clothing, but she ignored it, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself.

She decided that the only thing left to do was to sleep, so she went back to the ditch she'd been in before. It wasn't near any buildings, but behind one, and partly in an alleyway, one a bit away from the one where she'd hallucinated.

Erik waited there, in the alleyway. _She will come back. She must! Her own happiness depends upon it. And any future purpose to mine._ He sighed. _And so I must have patience._

Eponine settled into the ditch, propped up against its wall, but not being able to sleep like she wanted to. She began to sing a ditty in her scratchy voice, under her breath, trying to get away from her own thoughts. Marius...he'd never love her, would he? No. But...that voice had said that it would help her. It'd called itself the Angel of Music. But she never loved music...

As time passed, Erik went between the sides of the alley, looking out each way, until he spotted her there in the ditch. _Near me. Surely she will come with the next morning._

He did not let himself sleep, fully, lest he miss her, but allowed himself a half-rest, still alert, as always.

Eponine slowly drifted into sleep, humming slowly, her head bobbing. Her sister was probably okay, maybe with Montparnasse...everything was fine for her to sleep...

Once Erik awoke fully, he walked back to the end of the lane; once he saw that Eponine was still there, he stood to wait, and watch, attentively. Surely she would not still be there if she did not wish to return. But as time wore on, and he continued to wait, he wondered more and more what he could do if she spurned him. Could he bear to be spurned, not for something as great as love, but merely a helping hand? Could Erik take such rejection? He stood and waited and watched, and the sun rose. Would she come, so he could be her guiding angel? Or would she cast aside the Angel of Music, leaving him again alone, bereft of Christine, of love, of Paris, of Eponine... of everything but the music inside. _If she will not come, I must follow._

Eponine woke at the crack of dawn, as she always did, and scurried out of the ditch, looking around. In what little daylight there was, the alleyways were faintly lit up, and she could see a shadow at the end of one, darker than the others. She dismissed it, hardly remembering what had happened the day before, and trotted quietly across the street.

From the shadows, a trickle of music washed over her.

_Have you now come to meet the Angel here?_

Eponine looked up, startled again. "Oh, no, not this again..." She thought for a moment, deciding to bargain with this mysterious hallucination. "If I _do_ speak to you, will you come out?"

The music was like a breaking tide that roared above, crashed down, bubbled about, pulling at her and then receding with the ebb.

_Oh, would that this sad Angel, alone, could_

_Come into the bright light of happy day_

_But never should you set your eyes on him_

_He will sing, and guide with the lonely words_

_But to him is barred freedom, for all time_

Eponine had had absolutely enough; this had to be real, and whoever this was was being repetitive and annoying. She thrust her arm into the shadows and groped for the source of the voice. "Then I'll bring you out myself." Admittedly, the music had been soothing.

Erik dashed back, and the song turned grim, filled with deep longing and forsaken love.

_If you will not accept Music's Angel_

_Then let all despair fall unabated_

_For if you spurn him, he cannot assist_

_And you will have lost your chance to find love_

_And sent him to the blackness of his mind_

Eponine's face twisted into an expression of confusion, annoyance, and horror. "_What_ are you? What's happened to you? Why won't you show yourself?"

The mournful music screeched and wailed, calling down the passions of being alone, abandoned, inward pity and hate, love that turns to anger and again to love within a single phrase.

Eponine listened, squinting at the intensiveness of the song.

_Do not ask who is this grave angel here_

_Through his life, he has fallen, so he hides_

_Do not ask what he is, do not wonder_

_If he is shown, you will cry in terror_

_Let only the music into your heart_

"But I don't care for music," she murmured defiantly.

The flowing tune turned inward, wafting as if in a sigh.

_Do you reject this angel's aid?_

_Will you go about life alone?_

_Without his support and caring?_

_The angel prays that you rethink_

_Lest you lose all, for want of love_

"No!" she said loudly. "I just want to know what's going on!" She reached out without warning and grabbed his shoulder; her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

The music stopped.


	4. Eponine's Questions

Erik's heartbeat turned rapid, and for a brief moment she could see his glowing eyes, before he turned away and pulled out of her grip. _She can't see me! That's what always has turned everything sour. If I do not let anything happen beyond advice and help behind the scenes, surely it cannot go wrong that way_. He ran down the alley, head in hands. _And she touched me! Oh, what can she think? How can I come again? Will the world be over?_

Eponine gasped, pulling back. _Wait!_ she wanted to cry, but couldn't, shocked. She watched the darker shadow rush away, and finally found her legs, running after it.

Erik turned a corner and ran along into a dark, sooty, industrial part of the city. _She can't see me!_ Well... at least she cared enough to run after him. Perhaps, if he hid, and waited, she would be more receptive, the next time he sang. _But her eyes can never see the horror of Erik._

She rounded a corner blindly, thinking of the frightening, piercing gold lights she'd seen in the shade. "Where are you?" she panted quietly, looking around. Not receiving a response, she leaned against a wall.

The air became thick with belching smoke from the factories. Erik held his breath and found a secluded entranceway, where he sat.

Eponine hoped that the thing... the person... could hear her now. "I want your help," she said quietly. "I don't like asking for help, but... Marius... I need help." She sighed, not wanting to admit that. "I need a plan..."

Erik spoke this time, though with a soft, melodious voice. "Then I will help you. Tell me everything... what you want, what stands in the way, what advantages you might have... and I will see that your wish is granted."

Eponine couldn't tell where the voice was coming from, but decided to tell it everything. "There's a man...his name is Marius, and he's very smart and so handsome..." She sighed. "He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me; he thinks I'm ugly, I can tell. He loves a girl, younger than me, her name is Cosette, but he doesn't know that. I don't know what to do..."

Erik nodded; he had suspected most of that. "Where might I find this Cosette?"

"The house with the gate at the Rue Plumet," Eponine answered unthinkingly. "Are... are you going to hurt her?" she asked after thinking a moment.

Erik stood, the soot stirring slightly, then paused. "Would you want it?"

"No," Eponine replied firmly. "I... well, I just want Monsieur Marius to be happy. I don't want Cosette hurt. But what are you going to do? Oh, this would be much easier if I knew who you were!"

"You want Marius to love you... don't you?" Erik sighed. Wouldn't that be the greatest thing in the world, to be loved? And if he could help someone else be loved... that would be the second-greatest.

"Yes," she replied. "But what if this is a joke? I bet it is. Do you work for my father? Are you spying on me?"

"How can I prove to you that I am not?" Through the smoke, the golden eyes were like embers.

"Show yourself!" She repeated it for a tenth time.

"No. Anything else." Erik stepped back, deeper behind the smoke, the eyes dimly visible as a diffuse scattered glow. "It would be our undoing."

"Why are you scared?" she asked curiously. "I want to know who you are, right now."

"I am the Angel of Music. There is nothing else you need know about me." Erik sighed. "It is for your own sake."

Eponine groaned. "That's not fair... I want you to help me, and I know you're a person... I felt you. I..." She thought of something that might persuade him to come out. "You were really cold, and bony. Do you ever eat? I know I never do." She shrugged. "Ah, well."

The golden lights turned aside. "No, it isn't fair... but you would hate me if you saw me, or be frightened..."

"If you were who I think you are, I would hate you. But you say you're not..." Eponine replied firmly. She looked at the two floating lights. "Are those your _eyes_?" she asked. If they were, then he couldn't be... anyone she knew...

A deep, heavy breath. "I am barely a man..."

"Do you have a name?" she asked as a start. "I mean a real _name_, not the Angel of Music, or whatever it was..."

The golden lights grew fainter, as if he moved deeper into smoke, or they became overlain with something else, perhaps tears. "If I were to tell you, then I would be a person to you, and not a savior." _But already it is too late_.

Eponine felt an odd feeling for this entity; a mixture of creepiness and pity. "Why can't you be human?" she asked after some thought. "If you're going to help me, why can't you tell me who you are?"

_Erik tried to be human once, but he failed. Now he must not even be Erik_. But he could not explain this to her. The smoke drifted between them for a while. At last, in a haunting phrase of music, so soft her ears could barely catch it, he sang "_goodbye_" and the lights were gone.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. All that was running through her head was: _Marius, Marius, this ghost said he'd help me get Marius! He said, and I wanted his name! Why didn't I just do what he said!_

"Wait!" she cried. "Please! Please...!" There was silence and she fell against the wall behind her, shocked. It couldn't have all been her imagination; she'd _touched_ this thing..."Please..."

No answer greeted her. He had gone.

Eponine sighed again, and gave up. She'd had her chance, and maybe the person could have helped her, but it was over now. Marius would never love her.


	5. Cosette Confused

**Apologies for the delay in updating… anyway, here's the next chapter now. **

It was late in the day by the time the Angel of Music found the Rue Plumet, and with it the gated house. He looked through the shrubs and saw a beautiful blond girl sitting on a stone bench, looking distressed. He crept around until he found a nearby bush where he hid himself, silent, watching and listening; he would observe before intervening, if he could do so. Likely, this was Cosette, but he could not yet be certain.

He watched as the little girl stood up and began to walk toward her house; but something moved in a bush, and she whirled around. Nothing. She turned back around, and sighed, walking around the house.

He waited, hoping for her to do something, or for someone to arrive; at least for there to be some clue. _I will not forsake you, Eponine_. He kept himself hidden, shrinking into the bush so that there was barely a trace, though he kept an eye looking out.

Finally, the girl had the courage to turn around, and saw nothing behind her. She laughed lightly at herself. "Cosette, what's gotten into you?" she asked herself quietly, shaking her head.

Erik rustled the leaves slightly, then retreated again, testing her.

She looked fearfully around and then ran into the house, shivering.

He darted to the shadows along the side of the house, placing his ear by a thin wooden crack and listening in.

"Cosette, dear, you were out there for some time," said an old woman's voice.

"I know," the girl replied, whom he was sure was Cosette. "Toussaint...I'm going to bed," she whispered next, and there was light footsteps going upstairs.

And Erik climbed up the rooftop, scaling his way towards a high window.

There was a rustling in the bushes below and, looking down, he saw a man standing under the window of the room the girl was now in. He squinted to make out who it was...they were familiar. He peered down the side of the roof to see more clearly.

He recognized him as the boy Eponine had spoken about...Marius. Marius... He scowled. _And so he's visiting this Cosette, and not the better Eponine._

The figure retreated, running out of the gate. He could hear the girl humming nervously in her room.

Erik made a sharp knock above the window, then retreated back again.

The girl, Cosette, started and slowly opened the shutters. No one. "I swear...it's my nerves..."

Erik grinned, and as soon as Cosette seemed to have calmed again, softly whispered "Marius is here."

Cosette barely heard it, but opened the shutters again. "Hello?" she asked timidly. Who was Marius?

No noise came from above, but the same whisper repeated, from far below.

"Wh-who's there?" Cosette squeaked, looking down.

"Marius. Marius is here."

"Who is Marius?" she asked, scared.

"You must know... you must..." And the whispers trailed off. Erik no longer was sure what to do in this line of pursuit.

"Father!" Cosette screamed, backing away from the window. In a few minutes, a shadow appeared at the window. A bigger shadow, with broad shoulders.

Erik stayed silent, listening. He would remain for the duration of the drama he had stirred, and then, at least for the time, he would go.

A man with stark white hair looked out suspiciously and then closed the shutters. Cosette didn't tell him anything but that she'd heard a noise in the garden, but Erik heard nothing else.

Something in the bushes moved and looked straight at him. "Who's there?!" it asked frantically.

No response came from the roof, but there was a whisper besides. "Are you Marius?"

The figure started and looked where he'd heard the voice. "Y-yes...? Who's asking, please?"

"Come, come," the voice whispered. "Cosette would like to meet you." Erik grinned. If Cosette really did not know Marius, this would be just the way to make her consider Marius to be creepy.

"Who's Cosette?" Marius asked timidly.

"She lives here. She wants to see you. Come quick, come quick."

"Co...Cosette is her name? Not Ursula?" Marius said slowly.

"Cosette knows you are here. She wants to see you."

"She does?!" he asked eagerly.

Erik heard a small gasp behind the gate.

"She has been expecting you..." the voice trailed away.

And then the voice came again by the window where Cosette was. "Marius has returned. He is coming for you now."

The shutters opened and an older man leaned out the window. "Who are you?! Get out!"

"Monsieur Marius!" whispered a voice fervently. "Over here!" Marius was dragged out of the gate just before the older man came out of the house.

Erik slipped from the roof into a nearby tree, still watching closely.

The person who'd pulled him out stood before Marius in the street. "Tomorrow night—you shouldn't go. He'll be watching," they said, and then ran away.

Erik waited, watching. Maybe his plan to get Cosette and Marius confused at each other and annoyed wasn't working quite as intended, but something strange certainly was happening. He saw Marius walk away, confused.

Down the street he heard people speaking loudly. He descended from the tree and darted towards the talking people.

**Izzi (co-writer of this fic) has made the first illustration for this fic (there should be one every five chapters or so). Here it is: http:// . com/art/Cosette-Now-I-Remember-151496572**


	6. When all is ash, how can one sculpt?

**Sorry about the delay again—I've been quite very busy lately—but, anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy! And please let Izzi and I know what you think!**

Erik saw two shorter figures in the middle of the darkened street, one of them clinging to the other's arm. The slightly taller one looked down on the other one, talking about a job he had to do.

Erik approached in the shadows, until he could hear what words they said.

"Ponine, I really must go and take care of my job," the taller one said.

Erik recognized the girl embracing him. "Alright, Parnasse, but don't be gone long. There's someone following me."

"Aw, don't worry about it, Ponine. Let go, now." She did as she was told.

Erik frowned. _Ponine... Eponine... who is she with?_

Eponine waved halfheartedly as the man went off on his way. She sighed and looked around.

"Who was that?" Erik whispered softly, so only she could hear.

She turned around. "His name is Montparnasse." She crossed her arms.

"Why did you embrace him?" Erik slipped back into the shadows, but not before she could catch a glimpse of his silhouette.

Eponine raised an eyebrow. "Wait, who are you?" She backed up, preparing to run.

_Oh, do you not recognize me?_

_Think a moment, and then recall_

_Remember this voice that you hear_

Eponine dropped her arms. "Oh, it's you..." she said, biting her lip. She looked angry for a moment. "You said you were gone. You left!"

The music turned to a whisper again. "I only went to see Cosette. Marius came, but left."

"Why did you leave? Will you still help me? Please? I won't ask you any more questions..."

"Yes, yes, of course... I am trying to make them afraid of each other..."

Eponine nodded a bit. "If you think that's best," she said quietly, thinking. She couldn't resist, she moved toward him a little.

Erik slipped back again, slowly. "The man with Cosette seems alarmed."

"Her father, I think," Eponine replied. "Oh, please don't back up. I won't touch you."

Erik did not move, but he did tense. "Do you know what her father thinks of him?"

"He doesn't know about him, as much as I know," she replied, moving a bit closer.

Erik's heart fluttered and he took a single step back, collapsing into a bush. "Please, stay away!"

"I will _not_," she said persistently, coming nearer and reaching out quickly and finding his hand, pulling him up. They were now only a few feet away from each other, and she could tell he would not be happy.

Erik jerked away, violently, enough to knock her off her feet. With a sob, "Why, why must you push at the limits of what I can give to you? Why drive towards what you must not have, when you could have everything else? Why, when you could have _him_?"

She fell hard on the pavement hard, and went silent. "...What do you mean? Don' you want to help me?"

The golden eyes seemed to glower and simmer. "Yes. You must be helped. But do not try to see your benefactor, for it would wrong him."

Eponine was silent for a moment, not picking herself up. She finally said, "Can you at least tell me, clearly, why I can't see you?"

Erik sighed heavily and turned away. "I am a monster."

"In what way?" she asked and then said, "By the way, you are the reason I am on the ground. Help me up?" She was testing him.

"I am a freak of nature, and too dangerous for you to be near." But he held out a hand, gently, and gripped hers with his own, like a corpse's.

Eponine lifted herself up gingerly, afraid of hurting him. "You can't be any worse than other things I've encountered." She added, "Your hand...it's so..." Thinking she concluded with, "Frail." When he tried to pull his hand away, she did not let go.

Erik stopped struggling, and instead his hand closed around hers, but gently. "Yours is little more than bone as well..."

Eponine shrugged. "It's enough," she replied. "Yours is just unnatural." She honestly didn't mean it to be rude.

"Then it's worse. I was born with it... you need not be like this."

"I've learned to live with it," she said with a small, bitter smile. "Were you really born like this? Is it like this all over you?"

"Yes." He let go. "Always. Everywhere." A tear lit upon a golden eye. "I must make sure that you are better fed..."

She suddenly looked up at him. "Are you going to feed me?" she asked, astonished. "But...you don't even know me..."

"I don't have any food with me, but... I'll find a way... I am here for you, Eponine, to be _your_ Angel.

"But why _me_?" Eponine asked, scratching her head. "How am I any better than the other starving people?"

_Because something about you touches my soul._ "It may never be known. But I am certain that you are why I am here."

"...Why you're here? Where did you come from?" she asked.

"Another Paris." He paused, thinking. _Erik must find a plan... to turn Cosette and Marius apart, and then to drive Marius to Eponine? Ah..._

"Another...?" She trailed off. "You are really strange."

"Yes." The golden eyes turned to gaze at her. "But I am here on your behalf. And now is time to learn more, to find a plan of action."

Eponine nodded. "I just want to get him away from her," she said.

Erik nodded. "That should not be hard." _Not hard at all, to drive two people apart. Easy to make them fear each other, to spurn and hate. But harder, much harder, to bring them together, as must be the end goal for Eponine and Marius. How can one create when there is only destruction? When all is ash, how can one sculpt?_

"I...well, I have a plan," Eponine said thoughtfully.

"You do?" Erik blinked. He hadn't even thought that she might do scheming as well as himself.

"Yes," Eponine said slowly, then said, "Well...no...I just thought that maybe somehow I could get her to move away..."

"Move away?" Erik's eyes glowed with interest. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, her father seems like the careful type to me. What if...what if we sent him a warning, telling him to get out?" Eponine suggested. "He'd take Cosette and I'd have the cat in the bag."

He nodded. "I should find out what it is that might scare him... there must be some reason they seemed so nervous before..."

Eponine shrugged. "I haven't a clue. I would say if I did." She looked around. "It's getting late, and you don't want to be caught in the alley, do you?" she asked. _I thought he was going to feed me...no, no, wait for that, just wait for it._

"I can meet you here again, tomorrow morning. Perhaps I will have more to give you then."

"Where do you go?" she asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.

Erik shrugged. "I don't know yet."

Eponine said, "Maybe we should go find someplace together? I don't know where I'm going either."

"I'll figure it out... I..."

"...You...? Yes?" Eponine urged him to continue.

Erik shrugged, barely visible as a movement of shadows. "Where do you usually sleep?"

"In ditches," she replied. "But it's hard, since it's winter. One of these days I'm gonna die in my sleep."

"No, no you won't." He took her hand again. "Do you know where to find... the opera house?"

"Opera house?" Eponine repeated under her breath. "I have not the slightest notion what you're talking about. There is no opera house, not really, not a big one." She shrugged. "Why?"

"I lived there. There really isn't one here?"

"Not an opera house," she said. "I think you have the wrong place. Why did you live in an opera house? Did you sing there?"

"In a manner of speaking." He sighed. "But things are different here. We must find shelter elsewhere."

"Alright," Eponine agreed. "As long as it's safe and whatnot."

Silently at first, he began walking through the streets and alleyways; then, worried that she might lose him, he began humming a sweet melody, reassuring, but meaningless, yet still full of calming beauty.

Eponine smiled without fully knowing it and followed him.

Before too long, Erik stopped, and whispered, "I am lost."


	7. The Rats and the Elephant

**I'm so sorry for the long delay in updating—nearly two months—but I'd had a lot of things going on. Anyway, I'm going to try to make a weekly updating schedule from now on. And here's the next chapter! **

Eponine nodded and said, "I think...I think I know a place."

Erik nodded gravely. "What is it?"

"Well, I think I saw my brother going there once. Follow me." She ran ahead of him, in the shadows, looking around for certain streets, knowing only a few ways to get there.

As they rounded a corner ten minutes later, Erik beheld a giant wooden elephant. He frowned. "What _is_ this?"

Eponine looked at it. "Ah!" she said, noticing it. "It's a big elephant," she replied simply, examining it from afar. "This may not work. It looks as if only a small boy like my brother would be able to get into it..."

"I'll see if there's any other way." Erik darted forward, then into shadows underneath.

She waited outside of the gate, hiding in the shadows, so she wouldn't be seen.

After a moment of looking, Erik moved aside a plank at the stomach region. "It... would be a little tight..."

Eponine squinted and whispered, "You won't be able to get in, and it's freezing out here. I don't know if I could squeeze through either..."

Erik fiddled with the plank, and it widened a little. "I think you can make it... don't worry about me, I'll be nearby."

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at the plank. She pushed it up and tried making a wider hole. "Damn rats," she muttered.

Erik shrugged, his silhouette almost visible as a full form. "I've had worse. But you must be... you must be like a queen, and I, providing you with every nice thing I can..." _You must be my new Christine._

"Oh, don't bother with me," Eponine replied. "I don't need nice things; I never did. I just don't want to die yet. _And I hate these rats_." There was squeaking from inside the elephant, and she shooed it away. Picking at the boards, she started to make a bigger hole. "Gavroche won't be happy, but this is better than nothing. We'll need another board to cover the hole."

Erik looked inside. "I'll just... deal with these rats, then."

Eponine growled and hit another board. It made a blunt sound and then cracked quietly. "It's working," she said, "but...with all these rats, we'll be eaten alive."

Erik scowled, proceeded to get out some item, entered, and then there were loud shrill squeaking shrieks.

Eponine backed away and whispered, "Shhh! They'll hear us!" She looked in through the hole and noticed her brother had made a small alcove protected by fencing. "Well, fancy that! Gavroche is smarter than I thought."

Erik came back out. "Well, the rats shouldn't bother you as much now..." He flicked some small furry things away.

"What did you do to them?" she asked in awe, and a bit of fright.

"They're dead. I was prepared in case of defense... it worked this way as well."

Eponine looked at him—well, his shadow—and said, "You killed them? How? Where is your weapon?"

"Well hidden." He receded again, towards the fence. "Good night, Eponine."

She climbed into the elephant with a bit of difficulty and looked over in his direction. "I think there's a mattress there. I'll use it, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Erik gently pushed it towards her. It was stopped by the fencing, which made a small rattling noise. She crawled onto it and yawned, lying down. She looked around for Erik, and was silent when she found his shadow. After a while, she said in a whisper, "...What is your name?"

He sighed. "Would you truly want to know?"

"Yes," she replied firmly. "Even if you're not human, you must have a name."

"Very well." He paused for a few minutes, as if he had forgotten, or drifted into sleep, then whispered his name: "Erik."

Eponine had been waiting patiently for his name, and once he said it, she allowed herself to close her eyes and sleep.

**If you're reading this, both Izzi and I would love for you to comment in any way. Feedback is part of what makes the experience of fic-writing a pleasure :)**


	8. Food for Thought

**I know this is a short chapter. But I hope to put another up tomorrow. **

When the morning had come, Erik was gone, but there was a scrawled note fastened to the fence.

Eponine woke a bit later since she couldn't see the sun, but woke early anyhow. She noticed Erik was gone and found the note. _How did he find things to write with?_ she asked herself, but shook her head and picked it off the fencing, coming out from behind it.

—_Eponine,_

_Just finding something to eat. Be back soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Eponine's Angel_

Eponine sighed and put it back on the mattress. She didn't want to stay in here any longer, but apparently it couldn't be helped.

At last Erik returned, preceded by the scent of fresh beef.

Eponine looked up at his figure, though she couldn't make out what he looked like, since it was still pitch dark in the elephant. She sniffed and tried not to drool.

Erik handed it up to her. "Here, have as much as you like. I already had a portion."

She took it and held it in her mouth while she started to climb out of the elephant.

He watched anxiously. "Is it good enough?"

She looked in his direction, wide-eyed, and slipped through the gate separating the elephant from the street. "What are you talking about? I haven't had meat as long as I can remember."

"Oh..." Erik sighed. "Well, now you can have it as often as you want. Just as often!"

"How did you pay for this?" she asked, amazed, going into a side-street that was deserted.

"Oh, well..." Erik looked down at his feet. "I didn't, really..."

Eponine laughed. "You must be practiced. They guard it."

"I have to be good at not being seen." He watched as she ate, waiting for her to finish.

Eponine scarfed it down hungrily, licking her fingers afterward, completely disregarding unnecessary manners. "Thanks," she said to him. She struggled to remember his name—she'd been tired when she'd been told and it was very quiet. _Erik_, she remembered suddenly, nodding.

Erik smiled for a moment, though it was quickly gone, and never visible. "Now, I suppose it would be wise to have a livelihood while we investigate Marius and Cosette... stealing food will only go so far, though it may be necessary for awhile."

"Well, I...don't know if I can get a job," Eponine said. "And you don't show yourself." She shook her head. "I could always..._beg_. Father used to write letters and have us deliver them to the rich...they would give us a few sous. Sometimes."

Erik grimaced. "There must be someone who'd hire you! I'm certain of it."

Eponine sighed. "To be honest, I don't know if I would be able to find a place. I've tried, trust me."

"Well, you may have tried." Erik swished his cape. "But I haven't."

**Discussion Questions: What sort of job might they set about getting? How well do you think that would work out?**


	9. Phantom Intimidation

**Okay, I guess it turned into "the day after tomorrow" instead of tomorrow itself, but here it is:**

Eponine noticed the ominous tone in Erik's voice. "I...I should find my sister," she said.

"Very well." Erik smiled. "You find her, and I'll see what employers might be up to snuff." _That is, frighten them into accepting her._

Eponine went in the other direction, scurrying toward where she'd last encountered her sister.

Erik wandered until he found himself in a commercial district, walking around through the shops. _Maybe one of them could use a clerk or something... _He looked between the rows of shops until he found the most enticing... ah, a nice little music shop, with displays of well-crafted violins and shelves of sheet music, but none of it well-organized. _They could use another worker. And they'll __**take**__ another worker!_ He slipped through the door silently, peered around, then segued to a man in an office behind the desk, going through papers; perhaps this was the owner. Loudly and abruptly, Erik cleared his throat.

The man started and looked up, adjusting his glasses. He looked at Erik curiously. "May I help you...erm...sir?"

"Yes, or rather you could help a... cousin of mine." Erik stepped forward so that he was half in the light, imposing, with the hint of the terrible deformities just under his mask. "She needs a job. You can provide it."

The shopkeeper seemed unimpressed at first, but then he said, "Can I, now? Who is this cousin?"

"She's a diligent young woman. She'll be just right for your shop." Erik edged towards the man. "You _need_ to hire her, don't you?"

The shopkeeper stuttered a bit as he said, "I...I could use an employee...but I have no way of knowing if she's right for the job."

"She is... but just to be sure, I will take her here this evening. You will be there to greet her." Erik slipped through the door of the office, then out of the building.

There was a silence. "...I need to get my glasses replaced," the man mumbled.

Erik went off to find some more food, softly humming "la ci darem la mano" to himself.

While he was walking, two raggedy girls past him, faces down. One was looking at the other strangely, as if she were frightening. "You've lost your head," she said. He recognized the other instantly. He stopped, then turned around to trail them, unseen.

"You know well that I lost it long before this...ain't making this up..." Eponine said in her scratchy convict's voice.

"But shadows feeding you?" the other asked.

"I'm not joking!"

Erik scowled.

_Why would you not believe the words_

_Of a woman so worthy, no_

_Listen to me, for I am here_

Eponine jumped and pointed toward the noise. "Hear? I told you!"

The other girl, who he supposed was her sister, turned toward him. "Show yourself!"

"Don't try it, he won't, trust me," Eponine said, looking back at him. "This is Azelma."

Erik shifted from song to speech. "Eponine, you now have an appointment about a job."

"Wha?" Azelma breathed. "Eponine?"

Eponine looked over at her. "Well..."

"I—I need to go. Both of us are hearing things, we're so hungry," Azelma said, glancing back at Erik, and walking out of the alleyway.

"What's the job?" Eponine asked.

"I'll show you." Erik led her along the streets, that at last pointed to the little music store.

She smiled ruefully and looked down at her attire, then saying. "Okay..."

Erik watched worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

"They won't accept me—I'm a mess." Eponine frowned. "Perhaps a factory..." she mused sadly.

"No, they'll accept you! And you're too good for a factory!" He took her hand again, gently. "Come on, if you're worried that you're a mess, well, we'll just find someplace to clean you up."

She didn't protest, though she was convinced that nothing he could do could help.

"First I need to get some money," he muttered to himself. "Um, I'll be right back." He darted off for a little more theft.

While he was gone, Eponine looked around for her sister without success.

Erik took a long time in returning, as much as an hour. When he finally did, he found her shivering in an alleyway, half asleep. He knelt beside her and sang softly, starting with soothing tunes, turning into happy, joyous melodies.

She woke up slowly, still shivering, and looked in his direction. "You have a real nice voice," she said tiredly, standing up.

"Well, I _am_ the Angel of Music." He handed her a satchel of money. "Here, buy yourself whatever you think will help tidy you up a little." He didn't mention the little run-in with the law that he'd had at the bank.

Eponine looked down at the satchel in awe; she'd never had so much money in her possession. She _could_ just abandon this Angel and use the money for something else, couldn't she? But what else would she use it for, but to clean herself up? "Thank you," she said, feeling uncomfortable with all that money, but confident at the same time. She'd finally have actual, suitable clothing for once. "Is it...okay if I share with my sister?" she asked.

"Yes, of course." Erik nodded vehemently. "Do whatever you want with it. It's yours now."

Eponine nodded slowly, not completely absorbing that the money was all hers. "I'll be back, then," she said, walking off nervously, to find her sister.

"I'll wait here!" Erik called after her. He could be patient.


	10. A Stranger Stares in Shadows

**So I guess it's been some eight months since I put up the last update. Sorry about that. I can't guarantee further regularity, as my previous attempts at such failed miserably, but I'll at least make more than a token effort to put something out once in awhile. I've been on the busy side with my last year of high school, and Izzi has been with her first one, so that certainly puts the brake on our fic-writing. Anyway, I'd like to give a big thank you and a large container-ful of appreciation to the people who reviewed Afterthought even during its long hiatus. It is such feedback that gives us a large dose of happiness. Izzi says she loves you, and I concur. That said, here's the next chapter of our saga for you:**

As time wore on and Erik stood still, contemplating the various churning thoughts and emotions, he noticed a man, also partway in the shadows, watching him. He took a step back into the shadows, reflexively, though of course he'd already been spotted.

Erik could instantly tell the man was used to shadow and quite acquainted with the people who hid in it. Though anticipating a confrontation, somehow Erik knew that the man would observe first rather than running up and accusing him of things.

Erik turned to watch the man in turn, his gaze steady. He kept his hand ready by a dagger he had but was just as ready to flee. He didn't know why the man was interested in him, but, hopefully, this would not be too much hassle. He began to get a bit angry when he clearly saw the look in the man's eyes; he was like a cat playing with a mouse, and Erik was the unfortunate rodent. Unflinching, Erik locked gazes with him, still and silent, daring the other man to make the first move.

He stared right back, as if trying to decipher something.

Erik shifted uneasily. Something about this man wasn't quite the same as every adversary he'd had in the past; no, here was someone who could watch his every move. _But he has no reason to suspect me... right? Besides that I am a monster._ Of course. Erik could never trust men. And so, as he stood there, waiting, he knew that he must suspect everyone, except Eponine. Perhaps the man would have left by the time she'd return. If not, well, there would have to be a confrontation, if the man's ground proved firm. Erik stood, resolute, ready, gaze fixed, stance set. He would not let himself be disturbed, not by an inspecting man, not by a cold wind, not by the feelings of impatience, nor the guilt that always came out to fill his mind in quiet times such as this. But no, banish the thoughts, banish the remembrances of deeds done, monstrosities undergone and committed. He would think only of Eponine, the one for whom he strived. He would wait for her, and nothing else in all this new world.

For a brief minute, the man turned away and Erik thought he might have gone, but he spotted his boot at the end of the alley, though he was hidden. The man certainly was suspicious, but who was he?

Now thoroughly nervous, Erik darted into another splotch of shadow, coming into sunlight only for part of a second, hoping that he'd gone suddenly enough that he'd lost the onlooker.

The man hadn't lost him and the heat was on now. He followed him viciously with his eyes, and was not about to lose him. He might have made his first move if not someone else had entered the alleyway on the other end.

Erik ducked behind the person, not even looking to see who it was.

"Erik?" the figure said in a nearly sweet voice, looking behind it and reaching out. "What's wrong?" Eponine's voice sounded normal enough now. Erik hadn't realized how long he'd been staring at the man.

Erik took her hand instinctively, then winced inwardly at the thought that he was being baby-ish. "We should go for a little while... explain later..." He ushered her quickly into another lane, pretending that he'd only grabbed her hand in order to lead her better.

Stepping into the light for a moment, he could see that her face was clean for once, her hair tied up in an actual ribbon instead of wire, and a clean outfit. "What's wrong?" she asked, stepping out of the light instinctively. "What happened?"

Erik moved his hand back. "There was a man there, watching, and I'm sure that he only meant me ill. I was barely able to evade him."

"Oh, probably a cop," Eponine said under her breath. "Ah, well..." She looked off wistfully. "I gave the rest of the money to my sister. She said she'd bring it back once she was cleaned up."

He nodded. "Well, you're looking very respectable now. Let's see about getting you that job."

She nodded a little, waiting for him to lead the way. She didn't necessarily want to work, but she had to help herself now. Being a moderately respectable citizen would give her a greater chance at Marius...but..._do I really want him if he only sees me when I'm clean, and presentable? I was always comfortable with how I looked before, and being like this is an odd experience...I've been poor from a child and destitute from nine years. Can I change my way of life so quickly? What will Father think?_

Erik started for the music shop again, taking a long way around, lest he be encountered again. "Well, here you are."

She looked in the window and sighed, seeing all the high-class instruments. She had never particularly loved music, though she found it entertaining, and she certainly wasn't going to try and play it. Would that matter for a job?

She slowly opened the door. "Hullo?" she asked in her convict's voice. She tried to clear it up and then tried again: "Hello?"

Erik stepped back, listening, ears alert.

A clerk waved at her. "Come in!"

Eponine did as she was told, standing near the doorway. "I was supposed to come here for an appointment?" she asked, clearing her throat. It made her voice sound a bit better, but still scratchy.

"I don't remember setting up an appointment with you, but I'll see if the boss has any notes." The clerk rummaged through some papers and came up with one. "Ah, yes, he says that there will be a woman to see him about a job this afternoon, highly recommended. Well, he's out at the moment, but I can interview you in his stead."

Eponine nodded. "That sounds...wonderful," she said with a grimace, trying not to use any slang, but it was quite hard.

The man took out some notepaper. "Well, to start with, what is your name?"

"Eponine Thénardier," she replied, going further away from the door and looking around at the shop's contents.

"Please, do take a seat." He frowned. "Well, where have you worked up to now?"

Eponine did as was instructed, afraid that if she didn't, she would loose the job—not that she wanted it in the first place. "Well...actually, I don't—didn't—work...my father did, but he...er...he's not there to take care of me, and I don't have a husband." Most of it was true, aside from the fact that her father cared more about money than taking care of her with that money.

He nodded. "Your first job. I see. But you are familiar with music?"

She bit her lip. "Not much...someone told me to come here, though..." Internally, she sighed.

"This is not a charity organization. You must have some useful skills. Well, can you do accounting?"

_Oh, no,_ she thought, getting both nervous and angry. Why a music shop? He could have just thrown her into any old factory, and she would have been just _fine_! "I can calculate, yes," she said, looking away. "...and I can write and read...and...such."

He handed her some financial logs. "Can you make sense of these?"

Eponine looked down at them and thought for a moment. She knew a little of what she had to do from watching her father, so the logs weren't complete gibberish. "Yes," she said, looking up. Now she was just uncomfortable here, and didn't want to be. _Just do what-ever_, she thought, and relaxed in her seat. Looking the man in the eyes, daring him to refuse her, she repeated, "Yes." The expression was strange on a quite young girl like herself.

**I wonder if anyone has any guesses as to who the person in the shadows is…**


End file.
